I Couldn't Save You
by addie knows best
Summary: He was on a mission. She was the bet. She was supposed to accept the popularity and the attention. She was supposed to fall at his feet. She wasn’t supposed to be this, she wasn’t supposed to be the best part of him. Naley.
1. Chapter 1

So this is a new story. No, I haven't forgotten about the other two; I've just been super stressed to write long chapters as to not disappoint, so I've decided to write a story I've been thinking about for a while and disclaiming at the beginning that not all chapters will be hefty in length.  
Let me know what you think ?  
This is based around the movie '**She's All That**'.  
I do not own the movie and I do not own One Tree Hill):

love you,  
addie j*

* * *

**I Couldn't Save You**

**Monday  
January 5th , 2009**

I haven't always been an ass.

Well, actually, I'm pretty sure I have.

But can you blame me?

Since birth, I have been defined by my father's failed aspirations. I have been thrown into a pedigree I never desired in the first place. I have been given a gift I never asked for. I have had talent and greatness thrust upon me in some of the most unseemly ways. I have had my entire life centered on one thing; basketball. I was just looking for an escape.

That's when she came into my life.

She surprised me with her intelligence. She astonished me with her beauty. She challenged me with her spunk. She inspired me.

Because of her, I treat people differently. Because of her, I have a whole new outlook on life. Because of her, I've realized what my life is truly about. Because of her, I am what I am today: an ass. Because of Rachel, I have mindlessly followed my father's advice and found myself exactly where I didn't want to be. Because of Rachel, I associate myself with the wrong people and degrade the right ones. Because of Rachel, I don't care who I hurt. Because of Rachel, I am who I am.

It's not like it's all bad. I mean, because of Rachel, I run the school. And because of Rachel, I am the most sought after and envied guy in all of Tree Hill High, but those aren't exactly things I can put on my resume.

Rachel. My super hot, head cheerleader girlfriend.

It's common knowledge that the captain of the basketball team dates the head cheerleader. So when it comes down to it, I didn't even get to choose that. Sometimes, when I actually think about our relationship, it makes me physically ill.

Rachel and I have been dating since the 8th grade, when she first moved to Tree Hill. In the 9th grade, the head cheerleader, Stacy Morson, took Rach under her bitchy, anorexic wing. While, at the same time, Tyson Conners, the captain of the Tree Hill Ravens basketball team, took me in as his little brother. When Morson and Conners, who ironically were dating each other, left Tree Hill High the following year, it was only fitting that their protegees took over the school that they once reigned.

Sure, Rachel and I have had our troubles. We haven't always been faithful to each other or been nice to each other, but every couple has their problems. Since the 10th grade I have been morbidly convinced that Rachel and I were destined to be together. That fate hated me that much. But recently I've been realizing fate hates me more than I thought. Fate was just playing with me, back and forward, like a cat and a yarn ball. Guess which one of us is the cat. Here's a hint: it's not me.

**Nathan Scott**

* * *

She twirled her fiery red hair around her index finger, so I knew she wasn't angry. She used her middle finger when she was angry.

She smacked her gum and looked un-animatedly at her dark blue fingernail polish. I used to find these mannerisms sexy, analyzing them more deeply than necessary. I used to believe she knew what she was doing, she was giving the impression that she wasn't interested, but she truly was deep down; deep, deep down.

I used to imagine her mind, contemplating what I was thinking while I was looking at her playing with her hair and smacking her gum and looking at her nails. I used to construe these images in my brain of what she was thinking about, all of the amazing things she was thinking about.

But I've grown up and I've come to a more accurate conclusion; she wasn't thinking at all. She was just there. She was just being. She was just playing with her hair. She was just smacking her gum. She was just looking at her nails. She just was.

I haven't decided yet if I'm more jealous or unamused at the fact that she can just turn her brain off like that; I mean, assuming she can turn it on. But how marvelous it would be to silence those thoughts that come swiftly and repetitively and so loudly. Thoughts that include the words marvelous and swiftly.

She widened her eyes at her dark blue nail, as if attempting to keep herself awake.

Or maybe she was attempting a conversation with it? I never do pay attention.

She blew a bubble with her pink gum and popped it by closing her mouth over it. I think I used to find these mannerisms sexy, it's hard to remember.

Rachel and I sat at a concrete table in the middle of the quad, in the middle of a dozen other people sitting at a dozen other concrete tables. People talking and laughing.

Suddenly, I was increasingly aware of the silence surrounding our own concrete table. Something wasn't right. There was no one else with us. There was **always** someone else with us.

Where were Rachel's cronies, basking in the light of her disapprovement? Where were my teammates, worshiping the ground I walk on? Something wasn't right.

The silence was deafening.

"Okay," Rachel huffed, pulling herself away from what I'm sure was an invigorating conversation with her nails. "Obviously this thing between us isn't working out."

Obviously? I don't believe I received that memo.

"Winter break was a real eye opener," Rachel elaborated.

Winter break, right. While I was stuck running drill after drill and throwing free throw after free throw, at home under the nazi-eye of my father, my girlfriend was in Cabo with the rest of her mindless skank friends and no doubt hundreds of ignorant men falling at her feet. What a wonderful, supportive girlfriend.

"I met somebody and he changed me."

"So you're pregnant." I stated bluntly; there was an opening, I took it.

She gave me one of her signature death glares before ignoring my comment and continuing with my de-manilizing.. I might of made that word up, but you get the picture. "His name is Damien. He's in college and he has a future with the NBA and I have a future with him."

"So you're pregnant."

"Damien is a man, Nathan. I'm done with immature, little boys."

"So it's a girl?" Another opening, ba-zing.

She ignored my comment once again, "Stop being childish, Nathan. You didn't honestly think I'd leave for college still dating you, did you? Damien West is everything I could ask for in a relationship."

If I weren't so infuriated, I'd laugh. "Damien West? From Oak Lake? The kid who threw that basketball at the ref because of a bad call?"

"So he's working on some things-"

"Rach, he rendered a 67 year old man unconscious. That dude is psycho." And so are you, perfect match.

"Whatever Nathan, I just wanted to let you know we're done."

I sighed in contempt, how I loathed this girl.

"Oh, but don't worry. I'll still go to prom with you, it's only fitting that the King and Queen go together."

Yeah, cause after you just dumped me for some mentally unstable freakshow, I was really worried you wouldn't want to go to prom with me. Thank goodness we solved that.

She sighed, annoyed at my silence. "Don't do the whole self deppreciating thing Nate, it makes you look like a tool."

And with that she stood up and strode away.

"Self deprecating, idiot." I mumbled and stood up as well.

The whole student body watched in amused silence as I slumped away.

Dumping me in the middle of everyone, classy Rach, real classy.


	2. Chapter 2

Told you I'd update fast(:  
This one's for jazey23, who was my first, and for 100hits, only reviewer(:

Love you,  
addie j*

* * *

**I Couldn't Save You**

**Monday  
January 5th , 2009**

My mom used to say "Hatred is easy, forgiveness gives you strength."

I had always wondered if Lydia knew she was going to leave us when she told me that, if she knew she was going to leave me.

For the past four and a half years I have lived, breathed, learned, and ached without a mother. For the past four and a half years I have attempted to pick up the lives of my family, to undo the damage that Lydia inflicted. For the past four and a half years of my life that were supposed to be spent enjoying high school, I have buried myself in my studies, my job, my art, and my little brother.

My little brother. He doesn't deserve this life: a runaway mother, an emotionally absent father, a train wreck of a sister; he deserves more. He deserves everything.

At almost five years old, he can read at a third grade level. He can talk more intellectually and properly than over 98% of my high school. He can understand situations and assess them more effectively and efficiently than anyone I have ever known can. At almost five years old, my little brother has the whole world in front of him; I just wished he had his parents too.

Lydia wasn't always so irresponsible, she wasn't always so selfish. She used to be my mother. She used to be the glue that held my family together. She wasn't always weak.

I was never really given a reason for her departure, but I could never find the courage or the insensitivity to ask my father, who I know, indisputably, blames himself.

My little brother was only months old when I came home from seventh grade to an emotionally unstable father, a wailing brother, and a pathetic note. At that moment, I made myself a promise; I swore up and down that I would never be like Lydia. I would never be weak.

Throughout the course of high school, I have kept that promise. Only really socializing with my little brother, my best friend, and the people I encounter, and am forced to make civilized small talk with, in my professions.

My best friend is indescribable. He has been with me since kindergarten. He has the most amazing mind and the absolute kindest heart. I can't help but hate myself for being his friend, always there but never open. Lydia ruined friendship for me.

Lucas Scott is… intelligent, and he is funny, and he is caring, and he is loveable, and he is strong, and he is everything anyone could ever possibly want in a best friend; I just wish I could be that for him.

Lucas and I work at his mom's café, Karen's Café everyday after school. On weekends, Lucas and I rotate shifts between Karen's Café and Karen's club, Tric.

Karen used to be best friends with my mom. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday they would get together at the Café, and drag me and Lucas along with them. Karen tried to help me when Lydia left, she tried comforting me, she tried being there for me, but I couldn't handle it. I don't think I can ever fully trust anyone ever again, as theatrical as that may sound; especially someone so close to Lydia.

Maybe that's not fair, putting Karen on the same level as Lydia. Maybe Lydia left for good reason. Maybe she hoped I'd find clarity in her absence, a morsel of salvation.

Then again, who could ever believe that leaving a teenage girl without a mother could ever be beneficial?

My little brother, my work, and my school are my main objectives. I am top of my class as well as head of the tutoring program at Tree Hill High. But there are other things, little secrets and hidden pleasures that give me strength. On Thursday nights, around 8 or 9 o'clock, Tric hosts an 'Open Mic Night'. Proudly and Confidently, I can declare that I am an eager participant. Singing gives me an unrealistic edge, a power of sorts. Singing makes me feel complete; it's the one thing Lydia has yet to take from me.

"Hatred is easy, forgiveness gives you strength."

I don't hate Lydia; I don't think I could ever hate Lydia. She is why I am who I am. I don't know if I could ever _hate_ the woman who birthed me, who taught me everything I could possibly need to know; even if she did it in unconventional ways, even if she taught me by leaving.

Hatred is easy; I just haven't gotten to the forgiveness part yet.

**Haley James**

* * *

"Baby James," I shouted through my brother's door, "time to wake up dude."

I heard suppressed giggles and absolutely no movement. It's not like I actually expected him to get up simply because I asked, I can't remember when it has ever been that easy.

Since Lydia left, it has been my duty to take care of my little brother. I've never minded taking care of him, ever. He is the reason I wake up in the morning. Inadvertently, he is the reason I have moved past the loss of my mother; the reason I've forced myself to move past the loss of my mother.

I opened the door slowly, making sure the creaking noises echoed thoroughly. A mound of covers shook slightly with laughter.

"Where could he be?" I asked aloud, sitting slightly on the mound of covers, careful not to press all my weight down. The mound shook under me with uncontrollable laughter.

"I hope he comes out soon," I sighed, "because if he doesn't, I think the tickle monster will have to find him."

The mound continued to vibrate with giggles as my hands dove under the covers and lightly squeezed his tummy; tickling him.

After awhile, I paused, "You give?"

The covers were thrown off and a little blonde-headed, red-faced boy emerged. He slid off the side of the bed with a mischievous grin. He slowly walked to the door, He turned around slowly in the door frame, with that same dimpled-smile.

"Never." He smiled and bolted out the door and down the stairs.

"You better watch out Jamie!" I yelled as I ran after him, "Be careful on the stairs!"

I chased him down the hall, down the stairs, and to the kitchen where I picked him up, placed an obnoxiously loud and overly dramatic kiss on his tiny cheek, and placed him in his chair at the kitchen table.

I got the milk out of the refrigerator and poured it into the bowl of dry cereal in front of Jamie.

Everyday, same routine over and over again. I liked this. This was orderly and this was stable and this was exactly what I needed in my life; order and stability.

"So Dylan's mom is going to pick you up in half an hour," I explained as I packed my little brother's lunch. "That means I need you to help me out and brush your teeth and get dressed super fast."

Controlled; orderly and stable.

"Your clothes are already laid out on the couch, so pick them up before you got upstairs."

Routine; programmed and practical.

I zipped up Jamie's lunch box and set it next to his backpack on the kitchen table, "Your lunch is here, and try to finish it today Jim-Jam. I cut the crust off just like you like it."

Custom, patterned, expected.

"Why can't you take me to school today?" Jamie asked, shoving a spoonful of Captain Crunch in his mouth.

"I would love too bud, but you know Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I have to go in early for tutoring sessions." I elucidated.

Defined, ordinary, usual.

"I could come with you!" Jamie opted with questionable enthusiasm.

I raised my eyebrow, and his face fell; already knowing the answer.

"I thought you liked Dylan?"

Jamie looked shamefully into his cereal bowl, "I do like Dylan, but his mom's car smells like yogurt."

I laughed at his scrunched up nose, "You like yogurt."

"Not for twenty minutes on the way to school." Jamie sighed.

I laughed again, "How about I give you an air freshener and you can hold it to your nose?"

Jamie pushed his empty cereal bowl into the middle of the table, "I guess that could work."

"I guess it could," I smiled, taking his bowl to the sink. "Now you have 5 minutes until I come upstairs, and I want to see those teeth sparkling Jamie James, got it?"

"Got it!" Jamie yelled as he raced to the stairs.

Control, order, stability; routine, programmed, practical; custom, patterned, expected; defined, ordinary, usual.

I washed out the cereal bowl and put it into the dishwasher.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, indicating a text message. I pulled it out and flipped it open.

'_Hope you had a good winter break.  
__Have a good day at school.  
-__Dad._'

Nothing about where he is or where he was all break. Nothing about or for his son. Nothing signifying any love or any emotion whatsoever.

Nothing but words, empty words.

Thanks Lydia.


	3. Chapter 3

Anyone else counting down the days until Monday's episode ? Who isn't craving a little Naley action ? Here's another chapter; I started watching **She's All That** for inspiration(:

P.s.- I know absolutely nothing about basketball, so sorry if I get something (or everything) wrong. Also; I don't dislike Julian on the show; I actually love him with Brooke, but for the good of the story, yes, he is an ass.

Love you ,  
addie j*

* * *

**I Couldn't Save You**

**Monday  
January 5th , 2009**

I dribbled the ball around Jake and through the legs of Tim. I turned for the fade away, which was exactly what Julian was expecting. I pulled out at the last second, sending Julian jumping into the air for no reason.

Idiot.

I dribbled to the net and leaped into the air. My fingers grazed the rim briefly, as the ball went through the hoop, before I grabbed it completely and hung off for dramatic effect.

From up here I was it; I was everything. From up here I had complete control, absolute power. From up here I was untouchable.

I've never really questioned it before.

I mean, I've always known it was my father's legacy keeping me on the court, but the ball and me, our relationship, it was just inexplicable.

You don't question what's meant to be.

"Good to know just because you were dumped doesn't mean your game completely sucks," Julian stated as I fell back to the ground.

"Who said she dumped me?" I asked, wiping the sweat from my brow.

Jake looked at me sympathetically, Julian looked at me incredulously, and Tim looked at me… well, like Tim.

I dribbled the ball, looking down at my feet, "Okay, so she dumped me."

Julian laughed, "That is priceless."

Always count on Julian to be the shoulder I can lean on.

"I'm just saying," Julian laughed holding his hands up in mock surrender at my not-so-subtle death glare.

"At least I had a girlfriend, _Julia_." I spat.

"The operatorive word there is _had_." Julian mocked.

"Operative, dumb ass." I mumbled.

"Look, whatever. All I'm saying is you used to be Nathan Scott, big stud on campus and now you're just Nathan Scott, bitch boy." Julian explained as he stole the ball from my distracted hands and shot a lay-up.

"How does my status go from big stud to bitch boy?" I asked as Julian passed me the ball and I made a perfect free throw. Nothing but net.

"Nate," Julian sighed as he passed me the ball once again, "you were dumped by Rachel Gatina; men don't get over that."

"From what I've heard lots of men get _over_ that." Jake laughed. I threw the ball at his head.

He caught the ball effortlessly, "What I think my demented friend is trying to say," Jake defended, "is that Rachel Gatina runs the school, being dumped by her is like being dumped by the whole school. One minute you're in and the next you're out."

I scoffed. Yes, _scoffed_. "Rachel Gatina is just a girl. Rachel Gatina is totally replaceable."

Jake and Julian exchanged a skeptic look.

"You don't believe me?" I asked rhetorically, "It's true. Take any girl at this school, any one at all. Give her the right look, the right attitude, and the right boyfriend, bam! She's the most popular girl at our school, more popular than Rachel Gatina."

"More popular than Rachel Gatina?" Julian laughed, "The girl who won Prom Queen as a sophomore and a junior? When the Prom Queen spot is specifically reserved for seniors only?"

"More popular than the Prom Queen." I stated definitely, "Hell, I could make her the Prom Queen."

Julian laughed once again, this time more sadistically. "Oh, so _you_ can make _any_ girl _Prom Queen_?"

I thought about it for a second, part of me actually analyzing the question, the majority of me just making Julian think I was. "Yes. I can make _any_ girl _Prom Queen_."

"I don't like where this is going." Jake shook his head.

"Huh," Julian pretended to ponder my statement, "alright, let's make a bet."

"I really don't like where this is going." Jake stated again.

"Alright, what are the terms?" I asked. I never back down from a challenge, thank you Dan Scott.

"Listen, Julian," Jake attempted to interfere, "the boy just got dumped, you're taking advantage of a friend here."

Julian lightly pushed him away, "No, the dude thinks he can do it; I want to see it."

Julian stepped in front of me, probably some sort of intimidation technique? I wasn't sure; he was almost a whole three inches shorter than I was.

"I pick a girl, any girl at all, and you make her Prom Queen."

Jake shook his head behind Julian, silently begging me to walk away.

"Deal."

* * *

History is stupid.

English, I get why we have to learn it. Math, I can see myself using in the future. Science, I'm alright with learning what labels I should stay away from. But history?

Who cares what a bunch of old guys did a long time ago? We can't changed it now, why should we even bother learning it?

History class is even more stupid.

The teacher talks so loud I can't go to sleep. The guy next to me smells like gym socks and sweat. The girl in front of me is so short I can't even use her back to shield my cell phone while I text. I hate history.

While I was in the midst of my person pity party, smelly-gym-sock-guy hits me in the arm, hard.

First of all, rude.

Secondly, now I'm going to have his weird body odor on me for the rest of the day. Not cool smelly-gym-sock-guy, not cool at all.

"Nathan." I hear my teacher, Mr. Whitfield, demand my attention.

Oh, so smelly-gym-sock-guy was trying to help me? Huh.

He could have at least put on a hypoallergenic glove, or something.

"Hmm?" I asked disinterestedly.

"The answer?" Mr. Whitfield asks. I can tell he's annoyed. Who wouldn't be? Having to teach history all day to a bunch of teenagers who don't want to be there in the first place.

"Right, um…" I'm trying to stall, he can tell. Why do teachers always pick on the people who aren't paying attention? How does that benefit the class in any manner whatsoever?

"Brown versus Board of Education." The girl on my other side whispers to me.

"Brown versus Board of Education." I state firmly.

Mr. Whitfield glares at me, I know he didn't want to me to answer that right. Why do teachers do that?

"You're welcome." The girl next to me scoffs. Oh right, thanks.

"I would've gotten it eventually," I lie.

She laughs lightly, humorlessly, "Right."

Don't make me sick smelly-gym-sock-guy on you.

I was about to reply with something witty, something so intelligent it would blow her mind.

I opened my mouth and the bell rang and she was out of her seat and out the door before I could mummer "Thanks."

History is stupid.

* * *

"How about that one?" Tim asked pointing to a girl with frizzy brown hair and braces.

"Some conditioner and invisaline would fix that right up, too easy." Julian dismissed.

At the same concrete table I sat at this very morning, surrounded by the same student body I was surrounded by this morning, Jake, Tim, Julian, and I sat looking for the future Prom Queen.

So far we've had a bunch of good potential. Girlish, boyish, childish, old-ladyish, old-manish, creepy, creepier, and unsightly. But Julian, bless his sweet, sweet heart, keeps looking for the best candidate. I'd be touched if he wasn't such a douche.

"How about her?"

"Too pretty."

"How about her?"

"Too busty."

"How about her?"

"Who?"

"Her."

"Where?"

"In the corner, with the yellow sweater."

"Too pale."

"How about her?"

"Too-"

"For God's sake, you're not going to marry the girl, Julian." Jake sighed annoyed.

Honestly, I really couldn't give a rat's furry behind what pathetic girl they picked. It would be easy no matter who it was. Everyone falls at the feet of Nathan Scott.

But in a totally non-arrogant, non-asshole way.

Then I saw her.

I shouldn't even consider going over there, but I stood up anyway. I opened my mouth to tell Jake to stop me, but instead I said, "I'll be right back."

As I was jogging over to her I could tell this was going to come back to bite me in the ass.

"Hey." I said, she turned around.

"Can I help you?" He blonde hair, which used to be covering her shoulders, was now piled on top of her head in a messy bun.

"Yeah," I stated dumbly, she cocked an eyebrow, signaling me to continue.

I should've walked away.

"I just wanted to say thanks," I explained. She stared at me blankly, "For today, in class."

She looked at me. Like really looked at me. Her brown eyes bore into me; it was annoying and invigorating all at the same time.

"Whatever."

And then she walked away.

I could hear Julian laughing behind me, halfway across the quad. I could hear him asking Tim who she was. I could hear Tim relaying information like a mindless drone. I could hear Tim stating his known knowledge of Haley James.

I could hear Julian laugh once more.

"I think we've found our Prom Queen."

I should've walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

I have the next chapter written, &it'll be posted tomorrow or thursday :)

love you,  
addie j*

* * *

I Couldn't Save You

**Thursday**  
**January 8****th****, 2009**

God bless the good patron who created block schedule.

You only have four classes a day opposed to seven or eight. You get an extra night to do homework that would otherwise be due the next day. You don't have to deal with the same teachers everyday, sometimes it's a whole three days before you see them again.

But the best thing about block schedule is Nathan Scott.

Wait, no, not like that. I mean you get a break from Nathan Scott. Well, not you, but I do.

Seriously, I give him one answer in history class, one itty-bitty answer, and now he's _everywhere_. In the hall, outside my classroom, in front of my locker, lurking around the girl's bathroom: _everywhere._ In history yesterday, he was staring, and not mindlessly into nowhere; he was staring at me. It's truly creepy.

Oh, and another thing; every time I see him, he tries to talk to me. Nathan Scott, in all my four years at Tree Hill High, in all my seventeen years of life, has never intentionally tried to talk to me. I just gave him one freaking answer.

That'll teach me; never be nice to anyone, **ever**.

But today was one of those precious days in which Nathan Scott could not stare at me through history class. Today I had no students to tutor in the morning and therefore did not get to school until five minutes before the bell, which meant no time for Nathan Scott to stalk me. Today I left every class exactly as the bell rang and walked the opposite direction to my class, allowing no time for Nathan Scott to intercept me. Today had been a wonderful, happy, educational day. Today I had made it through the whole day without so much as a peek at Nathan Scott.

At the moment, I am seriously considering performing some sort of happy dance as I stride to my car. I had gone many years with days like this one, days that I never saw Nathan Scott, and not one of those days felt this good.

I walked past the quad with a sort of skip in my step. In less than a minute I wouldn't have to deal with dodging Nathan Scott for a whole twelve hours. I smiled brightly, obnoxiously in fact. I smiled with a delightful enthusiasm.

"Haley!" A voice called from across the quad.

I so just jinxed myself with that smile.

I quickened my pace, six parking spaces until my car. I can see it now, keep walking, just keep walking.

"Haley James!"

"Keep walking, keep walking," I mumbled to myself.

I was pretty sure this would have been a weird situation for an onlooker to witness: me, the awkward nobody practically sprinting from the popular, incredibly hunky jock.

And when I say incredibly hunky, I mean ugly. Really, really, ridiculously, desperately ugly.

As I reached my car, trying untenably hard to keep up my quick pace, I felt a hand on my shoulder. How is it even possible that he caught up to me? I must have been going at least sixty-something.

"What?" I asked rudely, and slightly out-of-breath, as I turned around to face my stalker.

He looked a little taken aback at my abrasive manner, but quickly regained his composure, "I was just wondering…" He paused slightly before continuing, "You work at Karen's Café, right?"

I quirked an eyebrow, what was he up to? Nathan Scott, the captain of the Tree Hill Ravens, the All-State stud himself, the master of the universe did not ever, ever, ever talk to someone as lowly as me, and to talk about my work? There had to be a catch.

"Why?"

"Um…" He scratched his head, which might have actually been a little adorable if he wasn't totally creeping me out. "My parents, they're um… planning this basketball thing for the seniors, and they were thinking of hiring a catering service." His manner seemed to increase in confidence as he continued to speak. "Does Karen's Café cater?"

I'm pretty sure my face is unmeasurably distorted at this exact moment, as it is a very well known fact that Nathan's father, Dan Scott, used to date Lucas's mom, Karen Roe. It is also a renowned fact that after high school Dan got Karen pregnant, and then left her to raise her son all by herself. Dan knocked up Nathan's mother, Deb Scott, a few months later. Classy, right?

Thenceforth, it can be pretty well inferred that Nathan's parents would never, not in a hundred million thousand years, hire the mother of his father's illegitimate son to cater a Raven's basketball party, or any party for that matter.

Nathan Scott was up to something.

"It depends." I stated, trying my best to appear indifferent.

"On what?" He asked, seemingly innocently.

"On what you're up to."

He smirked, "Why don't you like me?"

I rolled my eyes, "Not everybody is obliged to like you."

He laughed, I scowled. "Yeah, but most people do anyway."

Wait, did you hear that? Yes, yes, that was fate, laughing in my face. It's official: God hates me.

"How awesome for you." I mumbled sarcastically. "Listen, if you really want good catering, I'd check out Moes' or Casarita, but I'd stop in and talk to the manager directly, so you know they understand exactly what you're looking for."

Nathan raised an eyebrow, "You're pimping someone else's restaurant? Couldn't that get you fired?"

I huffed, fed up, "Okay, I was trying to be pleasant, and help you out. But at this moment you're making that incredibly difficult because you're incredibly annoying. The only thing that could possibly get me fired at this point is you making me late, so if you'll excuse me." I turned back around to my car, opened the backseat door and threw my backpack inside. I slammed the back seat door and opened the driver's side door, slid in, started the car and sped off, leaving a partially flustered, partially amused Nathan Scott in my wake.

How's that for a dramatic exit.


	5. Chapter 5

this one is short to, so i just thought i'd post them together,  
&then post the longer one tomorrow :)

love you,  
addie j*

* * *

I Couldn't Save You

**Thursday**  
**January 8****th****, 2009**

"Maybe he's on crack?"

"Nah, not jittery enough."

"Heroine?"

"Probably not."

"Ecstasy?"

"Umm…"

"Acid?"

"LSD?"

"Toad licking?"

"Toad licking?"

"Yeah, it's like where someone licks a to-"

"I don't want to know."

"I heard Meth-"

"Luke, stop!" I laughed as I wiped down the front counter, near the cash register.

"What?" Lucas asked, looking up at me from his stance by the coffee maker, as he made a new pot.

"First of all," I started, turning around to face my best friend. "What makes you so sure he's on drugs?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, "What makes you so sure he's not?"

I thought for a second, "Good point." I sighed and walked over to the sink by Lucas, throwing my damp rag into it. "I just don't understand why he's chosen me as his fixation point. I don't comprehend what I have that Nathan Scott could ever want."

Lucas closed the top of the coffee maker and turned to me seriously, "Maybe he's a vampire."

I laughed, "Lucas, darling, we seriously need to monitor your choice of literature."

Lucas huffed, "Well maybe, and this is a definite maybe, Nathan has a thing for you."

Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha... Nathan…hahahahahahahaha…liking…hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha… wait, what?

I scoffed, "That's a joke, right?"

Lucas shrugged, "It could happen."

"Yeah, and Hell could freeze over too; doesn't mean it's going to." I stated as I walked back over to the cash register.

At this point in the conversation I wasn't paying much attention to my job-ly duties, much less my customer attentiveness, I was way too occupied with the thoughts circling my head, many of the thoughts attached to the blue-eyed king of Tree Hill High.

There was no way, no possible way in this universe that Nathan freaking Scott could 'have a thing' for me. Maybe Lucas was the one toad licking or whatever.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

I looked up, to face the customer, with a smile on my face that said 'family friendly service.'

"Oh Lord, are you serious right now?" I asked, with a scowl that said 'back the fuc-…'

"I'm sorry?"

"Not as sorry as I am." I mumbled.

"Now that's what I call service with a smile."

"What do you want Nathan?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"I'm just taking your advice, that's all." Nathan smiled crooked, his dimples in his cheeks threatening to distract me. I had to be over-analyzing this, right? In the real world, though I didn't quite exactly know where that was at the moment, in the real world this would never happen. Reality would never actually have me believe that Nathan Scott had any semblance of feelings for me what so ever. No, reality would just be messing with me. He's messing with me.

"If you want some _really_ great advice, ask me where I think I should put my shoe."

His smile grew, "You're feisty, Haley James."

"And you're wasting my time." I sighed, lessening the venom in my voice, "Look, I told you before, considering your family and your stature, Karen's Café wouldn't be the best place to have cater to your parent's party."

Nathan's smile lost a bit of its smugness, probably surprised at my sudden apathy. "Listen, I know my family doesn't represent the greatest of memories for Karen, but my mom is really set on having her cater. I think they've exchanged phone calls and meetings and whatever."

I raised an eyebrow, "If your mom has taken care of it already, what are you doing here?"

Nathan looked around to see if anyone was in earshot before whispering, "Well, I… I kind of… I need a tutor."

Nathan Scott wants me to tutor him? Is my jaw on the floor? Yeah? Alright, just making sure.

He sighed, possibly even conveying sincerity, "Look, I know you probably already think I'm an idiot. I don't really blame you, mostly because I kind of am. But basketball is really the only thing I have, and right now my grades are crap. And even though I am astonishingly awesome at basketball," I was too shocked to roll my eyes, "no college wants a moron who can't pass a class to save his life."

"You… want me… to tutor you?" Wow. Maybe, I'm the idiot.

"Yes."

"Oh." Yup. I'm _definitely_ the idiot.

"Yeah." He looked down at the counter.

"Wow, you're serious, aren't you?" I asked, still dumbstruck.

He laughed nervously, "You'd think I'd be here if I wasn't?"

Oh, thanks, thanks for that. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"That's not what I meant," He ran his hand through his hair, "what I mean is… you're the best, and I need the best. I need to pass Haley, if I don't get in to college, if I'm stuck here another year, I'll for sure lose my mind."

There was just something about him at this exact moment, something so honest. Something so unexplainably sincere I couldn't just say no. I sighed, giving in, "When can you start sessions?"

His face lit up, and his dimples once again threatened me with distraction, "How about tonight?"

I shook my head, "I have stuff to do on Thursday nights."

He gave me a questioning look, I shrugged.

"How about tomorrow afternoon?" I asked

"I have basketball stuff," he paused momentarily, thinking. "How about I call you tonight?"

Did Nathan Scott just ask me for my number. I mean, technically no, but seriously?

"Um… yeah, tha- that could work." I stuttered as I wrote my home number on a napkin and handed it to him.

Nathan smiled, "Thanks Haley, this means a lot."

As he walked out the door Lucas strode up to me, smiling at my perplexed demeanor.

"Looks like it's getting a little chilly in Hell."

"So, you said something about toad licking?"


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys, I love your feedback :)  
thanks so much for everything :)  
I know the chapters are short, but like I said in the beginning,  
I wanted to do this story so I could have shorter chapters and  
not worry about trying to think up new stuff to expand, and rant, and ramble;  
though I KNOW the story has had UNACCEPTABLY short chapters lately,  
I am sorry for that !!  
however, I am hoping that shorter chapters might mean faster updates?  
Because I've been cursed with unadulterated writer's block lately, I've decided to take it slow,  
hopefully that'll change very soon & the chapters will become longer :)  
just wanted to let y'all know, & pray you haven't lost too much hope in me yet :)

love you,  
addie j*

* * *

I Couldn't Save You

**Thursday**  
**January 8****th****, 2009**

After my bizarre day at work, I decided to shake off whatever I had felt towards Nathan Scott, whether i was creeped-out, confused, or even possibly charmed. I knew deep, deep down that there was a catch. Maybe Nathan was worried about people finding out about his trouble in school, but that still didn't explain his obsessive stalking. It still didn't explain why he used that lame excuse about the basketball party, or whatever. Nathan Scott wanting me to be his tutor didn't explain much at all; me, the best friend of his illegitimate brother: the ultimate social suicide. There had to be a catch.

I decided to let all thoughts of Nathan Scott fall to rest as I pulled into the parking lot to pick up Jamie from pre-kindergarten. I knew whatever crap Nathan was up to could be put on the backburner while I was with my favorite little brother.

As I walked into the school, I could tell there was something wrong. Well, maybe not wrong, but there was something off. I signed in at the attendance window, and continued down the hall towards Jamie's classroom. I opened the door and walked inside.

I looked around the classroom, there were kids everywhere. Kids coloring, kids playing leggos, kids playing with dolls, kids building lincoln log houses. Though technically this didn't seem to be out of the ordinary, there was still something off.

I saw Jamie and waved. He didn't smile like he normally did. He didn't excitedly skip for his backpack. He didn't jump into my arms. He wasn't acting like his usual self.

That's when I noticed it.

For every group of children there was at least one mom playing with them. Now that I thought about it there were moms everywhere else too. Moms coloring, moms playing leggos, moms playing with dolls, moms building lincoln log houses. Some moms were standing off to the side talking to one another. Some moms were helping clean up the mess of the day's festivities. Some moms were staring sympathetically at Jamie and me as he gathered his things and slunk up to me.

I placed a kiss on his forehead and picked him up, something I rarely did anymore because he was getting to be so big. He looked tired and worn out, and not in the good way like he usually did. He also looked like he'd been crying. "Hey Jim-Jam." I cooed softly, not expecting a response.

He sniffled.

The car ride home was silent, apart from the soft hum of the stereo.

As I made dinner, Jamie sat on the couch watching Disney Channel silently; his normal laughter and animated discourse absent.

I searched my mind for something to say to him. I had done so well before, or as well as I possibly could. I had kept him as far away from the mom-thing as much as I could. I had tried so hard to keep him from disappointment.

"Dinner, JJ." I called as I placed two bowls across from each other on the kitchen table.

Jamie turned off the television and walked slowly to the table.

More silence.

We sat down and ate silently.

I couldn't stand it. How was it that I couldn't help him? I couldn't save him from his own mother? I'm supposed to be his big sister. I'm supposed to be the one he can depend on.

The silence was deafening.

"Alright Jim-Jam, I have to go to Tric tonight. I'll be home at ten, no later than ten thirty, okay?" I explained as I finished my dinner at the kitchen table across from my little brother.

Jamie stirred his ravioli around his bowl with a dull lethargy, "Yeah, yeah."

I shifted in my chair and continued to look at my brother as he stared mindlessly into his dinner, "Uncle Luke is going to hang out with you until it's time to go to bed. I don't want you to give him any trouble, okay?"

"Mhm," he sighed placing his elbow on the table and his head in the palm of his little hand.

I gave him the best-concerned look I could muster; "Can you talk to me? Tell me what's bothering you, Jim-Jam. Or are you just going to sulk and continue to pick apart your dinner?"

Jamie sighed again and dropped his fork into his bowl, "Why can't I come with you?"

I smiled sympathetically. I knew this had to do with all the moms at school today. And though he probably didn't even realize it, I hated leaving my brother behind whenever I had to go out. Even during school days, many of my trains of thought would lead to his chubby cheeks and adorable smile. Yeah, I'm pretty pathetic that way.

I just, I don't know, I just always feel like he is missing out on something. I don't want him to grow up and resent his childhood. And as awful as they may seem, and might even be, I definitely don't want him to grow up and resent his parents for taking away the things every child is entitled to. It wasn't fair to him; he should be allowed to formulate his own opinions, not be forced to harbor animosity because that's what life expected of him.

"You know that's way too late for you to be staying up JJ."

He huffed, "Yeah, but I'm almost five now. I think I'm old enough to handle a slightly later bed time." Jamie tried to reason.

I tried my best not to laugh. I know he was never adorable on purpose, well, sometimes he was, but most of the time it was just the intensity of his manner and the magnitude of his intellect that never ceased to astound me and at the same time also be extremely and indisputably adorable.

"I'll tell you what," I smiled as my little brother's face lit up, those words always preceded a particularly agreeable compromise. "In five weeks, on February 12th, when you have Friday off, I will let you come with me to Tric's Thursday night." Jamie smiled wide as I continued. "Then on Friday you can come with me to work and we can go out to eat afterwards and maybe even catch a movie." I paused, allowing him to revel in the excitement. "And then…" I stressed the '_then_' for dramatic effect, "on Saturday we can go to the zoo and on Sunday I'll take you to the River Court to play basketball with Uncle Lucas and the guys." I exhaled heavily, to let him know my long, long list of exhilarating adventures had come to a close. "How does that sound? Four whole days on non-stop fun, if you promise to go to bed for Uncle Lucas with no fuss for the next five Thursday nights?"

If it was possible, the baby blues on my favorite little brother grew in size as he imagined all of the possibilities that that weekend could hold. He quickly hopped out of his chair and ran around the table to my side, where he sprung into my embrace and threw his tiny arms around my neck. "Deal! Thanks Haley!"

"I love you, Jim Jam." I whispered as I squeezed him lightly, "More than a billion brown M&Ms."

"I love you more than a gazillion red gummy bears." He smiled as he kissed my cheek.

I laughed as I hugged him back tightly before placing him back down, "Now, finish your dinner before Uncle Luke gets here."

"Okay!" Jamie stated enthusiastically before running back around the table and picking his fork back up.

I grinned as I picked up my own bowl and walked towards the sink.

"Maybe Dad will want to come with us to the zoo." Jamie stated absentmindedly as he shoveled ravioli into his mouth.

I didn't turn around; I didn't want him to see my smile fall. I didn't want to have to be the one to crush his hopes of having a great day with his family, "Maybe."

* * *

"What will it be, Ms. James?"

"The usual, thanks Chase."

"One 'Shirley Temple', coming up."

I smiled at the slightly shaggy-haired bartender. Chase was cute. I could see myself being attracted to him, in a perfect world. He was smart, and funny, and extremely good looking. Then again, so was Lucas.

Maybe that was my problem, maybe I have had platonic feelings for 'good' guys for so long that now I'm forced to go after the 'bad' ones.

"Haley James." A voice stated, sitting down on a barstool beside me.

Speak of the devil.

Chase placed my drink down in front of me, I smiled gratefully.

Even though fate had been extremely cruel to me lately, I thought it all would be over once I agreed to be Nathan's tutor. I thought that fate would find mentoring Nathan Scott enough cruel and unusual punishment for one lifetime.

Apparently not.

I collected myself internally, feigning indifference, "Stalking is illegal in all fifty states, you know."

He laughed. Yeah, because I was going for 'funny.'

"What are you doing here, Scott?"

"I called your house," he paused, for acknowledgment or dramatic effect I wasn't sure. "And your dad said you were here."

That caught my attention, I choked on my 'Shirley Temple.' Super cute. "My dad?"

Nathan signaled Chase over, "Umm… yeah. Jimmy James, right?"

I wracked my brain as Nathan ordered a drink. It was one thing that my father was home before twelve, but that he was able to answer the phone and actually knew where I was, that was weird.

"You okay?" Nathan asked, breaking my train-of-thought.

"Umm… yeah." I shook my head slightly to clear my thoughts. "Yeah, but that still doesn't explain _why _you're here."

Nathan smiled, "I'm here to see you."

I huffed, "Yes, but _why_?"

"To talk about tutoring." He stated simply.

"That could have waited until tomorrow."

"Let me be frank, I'm bordering on becoming a hopeless case, I didn't think it would be advantageous to our progress if we were to wait any longer." He smiled, so I knew he was teasing.

I rolled my eyes, "I told you I had stuff to do on Thursday nights."

"Yes," He said as Chase placed two shots in front of him. Seriously Chase? Seriously. "Who knew Haley James went clubbing on school nights? Who knew Haley James went clubbing at all?"

Before I could retort, Karen Roe's voice can on the microphone atop the stage.

"Hey everybody, thanks so much for coming to our annual Thursday night 'Open Mic Night'." The crowd cheered before she continued, "To get things started, I would like to invite our veteran open mic singer, Haley James, to the stage."

The crowd cheered again, as a panic attack raged through my head. Singing in front of a bunch of faceless people was one thing, but singing in front of Nathan Scott, the idol of Tree Hill High, that was a whole different ball game.

I took one of the shots from in front of Nathan and downed it before slamming the empty glass back onto the bar. His eyes widened and his mouth made an 'O' shape. Priceless.

I raised my eyebrow before turning to Chase, "He's underage."

As I walked toward the stage I could feel my stomach churn.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to vomit.

Karen handed me my guitar, I thanked her as I sat down on the stool in the middle of the stage.

I could feel his eyes boring into me, but I was determined to not make eye contact.

"Thanks Karen," I cleared my throat as I spoke into the microphone. Get it together James. "I wrote this song for somebody who has made an enormous impact in my life, I hope you like it." I cleared my throat again before strumming the guitar.


	7. Chapter 7

All of your feedback means the world3  
The song is Devil in Me; Kate Voegele. I was going for the acoustic one, if you can find it &want to listen to it; it better suits :)

Love you,  
addie j*

* * *

**I Couldn't Save You**

**Thursday**  
**January 8****th****, 2009**

She was beautiful; stunning, really. She was entrancing and enticing, and worst of all: she didn't even have to try. She was truly amazing.

You know when you stare into a bright, blinding light? Like flashing neon or the sun. No Matter how long or how brief you may have stared, the imprint of light still stays with you, whether you look away or close your eyes; the image of brilliance stays with you.

For the past couple of days I didn't understand it, I didn't understand her. She didn't fall at my feet like most all others. She didn't flaunt her looks, though she definitely had looks to flaunt. She wasn't like any of the girls at Tree Hill High, she wasn't like anyone I had ever met, and I didn't understand any of it, until now.

"_Far in the distance,  
This is the view from the other side;  
How did I let this pass me by?_"

Looking at her now, looking at her this way, with her hair piled atop her head, her clothes slightly more eloquent then her normal jeans and T-shirt, her voice flooding the speakers, penetrating the thoughts of everyone in ear-shot, with her heart on her sleeve. Looking at her this way was like looking into her soul. And the more I looked, the harder it became to look away. Like a moth to a flame, my attention was constantly drawn to her; it was inexplicable.

"_Took me for granted,  
Planted thorns in this garden of mine;  
What are the chances?  
My hope has died._"

Heavenly; that was the only possible way to describe it, to describe her. Her voice was like a choir of angels, singing personally to me.

Holy shit.

I've become a sissy. She has turned me into a sissy; with the voice and the feistiness and the cuteness, she's made me a sissy. I barely even know this girl and she's got me making sissy analogies about freaking sissy angel choirs and using mega-sissy adjectives like heavenly. Or maybe that's an adverb?

Wait… I don't care. Caring is for sissies. I'm a man, a manly man; a manly man that doesn't care about adjectives or adverbs or analogies or angels.

Manly man.

"_Please have mercy,  
You unnerved me;  
I don't deserve this pain._"

I'm an ass. A manly, sissy ass.

Who do I think I am? Messing with a girl who never did anything to me? Who probably never did anything ever to deserve to be a pawn in some bet? And for what? To prove I'm still a bad ass? I could wear a dress and still be a bad ass.

Note to self: wear a dress while kicking sissy Julian's ass.

"_So don't break my heart,  
I ain't never done nothing to deserve this.  
I'm torn apart,  
You've had your fun, do you suppose I earned it?  
Do you not see how I'm begging on my knees?  
Don't speak, don't breathe;  
You bring out the devil in me._"

Wow. Someone must have really done a number on her. And here I am, more than likely furthering her belief that people suck. Awesome.

Though it is amazing how must insight you can gain about a person's life or beliefs through a simple song.

I'm such a freaking sissy.

"_Thinking it over,  
Those were the days dark as ebony nights.  
The end of October felt like a lifetime.  
I had a suspicion,  
But didn't want to believe you a liar._

_You had a mission to prove me right._

You took my trust,  
Ground it to dust;  
Found out I knew better."

I am an ass. I am an ass. I am an ass. I am an ass. I am an ass. I am an ass. I am an ass. I am a sissy ass.

"_So don't break my heart,  
I ain't never done nothing to deserve this.  
I'm torn apart,  
You've had your fun, do you suppose I earned it?  
Do you not see how I'm begging on my knees?  
Don't speak, don't breathe;  
You bring out the devil in me._"

Maybe I can turn this whole thing around. Maybe I can have my cake and eat it too. (Wow. Another sissy analogy? Wow.) But maybe, I can show Haley James how to have a good time and also have Julian eat his words.

While I eat my cake. My manly, bad ass cake.

"_And I don't wanna feel the pain,  
And I don't want another day  
Shackled to your ball and chain.  
You're entirely to blame,  
And I'm so tired of explaining  
The sensation of no Novocain."_

Okay, I guess as I think about it more and more, the whole general idea is just, well, dumb. Justifying sustaining my pride by providing an innocent, obviously broken girl with probing, violating popularity. Not exactly win-win for everyone.

"_So don't break my heart,  
I ain't never done nothing to deserve this.  
I'm torn apart,  
You've had your fun, do you suppose I earned it?  
Do you not see how I'm begging on my knees?  
Don't speak, don't breathe;  
You bring out the devil in me._"

But maybe that's exactly what she needs; popularity could be good for her. Hundreds of friends, thousands of admirers; who wouldn't want that? I guess this whole thing could work in the long run. I could get to know Haley, as could the school, and by the time prom comes around, she'll be so thankful it won't even matter. Then with me by her side, she'll win prom queen.

Well… wait… no… I didn't mean _**me**_ like _**by**_ her side. What I meant was… I meant, like, popularity. Like I would help her get popular and then she'll win. I didn't mean we'd be… like, an item.

I just said, well thought, 'like' four times. Whatever. The point is, I'll get my freaking cake.

And Julian will be crying like the little sissy he is.

"_I don't have a prayer,  
There is no charity in your heart.  
Couldn't you spare me?  
I've done my part._"

Throughout the entire song Haley had made a conscious effort to look everywhere but at me. I really hadn't noticed, really; this whole time I was looking straight at her and her refusing to meet my eyes hadn't caught my attention. But then she played a few chords on her guitar, and then she met my eyes directly, and I noticed. I noticed so much my stomach fluttered.

Yeah, **fluttered**.

"_So don't break my heart,  
I ain't never done nothing to deserve this.  
I'm torn apart,  
You've had your fun, do you suppose I earned it?  
Do you not see how I'm begging on my knees?  
Don't speak, don't breathe;  
You bring out the devil in me._"

Yup, I'm a sissy.

* * *

"That was really good."

"Thanks… but you said that already."

"Oh… well it was."

I scratched the top of my head as we walked down the street, away from Tric and towards Haley's house. Though everything in Tree Hill was within walking distance, it would have probably been to our benefit to drive. It would have saved a lot of awkward silence.

"So, you said tomorrow at seven would work for your schedule?" I asked, referring to our tutoring arrangement, attempting to start a conversation.

She stared at me quizzically as we walked, "I don't get it."

I took a deep breath, savoring the night air, "Get what?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "What you want from me?"

Busted.

I tired to keep my tone light as we walked, "What do you mean?"

She sighed, "I don't know what I mean."

I laughed lightly, "You want to try and explain?"

She half-smiled, "I just… You need a tutor right?"

"Yes."

"And you think I'm the best."

"Know, I know you're the best." I corrected. It was true, everyone who snagged the infamous Haley James as their tutor always scored at least fifty points higher on everything. She even helped Tim once get a B+ on his science project. She was **that** good.

She blushed before continued, "Okay, so you wanted me to be your tutor right?" I nodded in confirmation, "Okay, I get that. But why were you following me?"

I opened my mouth to deny that I was following her.

And then I remembered I was walking her home from a place I wasn't invited in the first place, after calling her house, because I came to her work to talk to her, after chasing her to her car, because I couldn't get her to talk to me any other way. Yeah, that would have kind of undermined my whole denial thing.

So I did the smart thing and kept my mouth shut.

"Why were you trying so hard to talk to me in the first place? If you told me you needed a tutor to begin with, that would have been one thing. Why virtually stalk me?"

I thought about it for a moment, believing that if I spoke too soon she would know I was lying.

"Well you are Lucas's best friend."

If I could of high-fived myself without looking like an idiot for being so incredibly quick on my feet, I so would have. For now I'll just settle for a mental, '_Good Job, Nathan_.' Thanks inner-self, thanks.

She nodded, "Okay, but that still doesn't explain why you're with me now. Why you came tonight. Like you said, I'm Lucas's best friend, so if you dislike him so much why are you trying so desperately to be my friend?"

I take that mental congratulations back.

I didn't know what to say, she was right. None of it made sense. What was I supposed to say?

Actually, Haley, I'm just trying to get close to you so you can win prom queen and I can win a stupid bet I made Julian.

Oh yeah, and there was something about cake.

"I don't know what to say."

She remained silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I guess first off I have to clarify, I have nothing against Lucas."

"You treat him like crap."

"I treat him like I treat everyone else."

"Yeah, like crap."

I didn't know whether to smile or cringe at her honesty, "Yeah."

"Look, I'm not going to say you owe him anything, you two don't even know each other. But you've kind of, really been creeping me out lately with your always being around and whatever." We turned down a streetlight lit street as she led me to her house.

"I really am sorry about that." I said sincerely. "I just don't know how to do stuff like this."

"Stuff like what?" She asked, meeting my gaze head-on. Her doe-brown eyes bore into me.

I stopped walking, in-turn so did she. I motioned between us, "Stuff like this, explain myself, ask for help, make friends."

She snorted, surprisingly I found it adorable. Yeah, yeah, I'm a sissy.

"I find that last part hard to believe. What about your trillion friends at school?"

I continued walking, so did she. I smiled, "I can see where you could get that impression, but honestly, I haven't told them half the things I just told you. About asking for help and about Lucas. They just like me because I can shoot free throws."

As we talked she turned down a concrete driveway that led up to a two story white-brick house, complete with blue shutters and a blue door, I followed. Once we reached the door she knocked softly a few times before turning to me, sensitivity in her eyes, "I don't believe that."

I shrugged with a smile to ease the tension, the last thing this girl needed now was me unloading my personal pity-party on her already heavy shoulders. You could just tell by looking at her, she was the type to set aside her own problems to help fix others. "What about you?"

She shrugged and smiled, mimicking my earlier motions, "What about me?"

"That was some song."

Haley turned toward the door, knocking a little harder than before, "It was nothing."

I could tell she didn't want to talk about it, but what did I have to lose? She already said she found me creepy, I might as well pry into her personal life. Right? Right. "It didn't sound like nothing."

She sighed, defeated, and turned to face me, finally making eye contact again.

"Who was it about?" I probed.

Slowly, but suddenly the door creaked open and Lucas stood in the doorway with a kid who looked no older than five or six stirring sleepily in his arms.

Haley walked inside, smiling gratefully at Lucas as the child tiredly reached out to Haley, of whom immediately took him into her arms before quietly whispering, "Thanks again for walking me, Nathan. I'll see you tomorrow at seven for our tutoring session."

And with that she smiled slightly and gently closed the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Hope you all didn't freak out because I was gone for three days :)  
weekends aren't usually the best time for me to update, but here you go :)

love you,

addie j*

* * *

**I Couldn't Save You**

**Friday**  
**January 9****th****, 2009**

It was a sunny morning at the docks by the river. Though Carolina still had that January chill in the air, the slight breeze was nice; it was a peaceful day. The table at which I currently sat was strategically placed so that its occupants could easily enjoy the view of the quiet, tranquil river that ran along the docks. It was peaceful, serene.

Too bad the amicable atmosphere had to be ruined by Nathan Scott.

He was joking.

He had to be joking.

Two minutes late? Fine. Five minutes late? Whatever. Seventeen minutes? This had to be a joke.

I don't get it, you give a guy a chance and he spits in your face. No, worse than spits in your face, he shows up over seventeen minutes late. Assuming he shows up at all. Maybe he's just messing with me. He's probably with his friends right now, laughing about how gullible Haley James is. How Haley James believed him when he asked her for help. Ri-freaking-diculous. I could be doing so many other things right now. This is just a waste of my precious time. I could be, I could be-

"Hey Haley, sorry I'm late."

"I could be sleeping right now."

"Okay… I'm sorr-"

"I could be taking my little brother to school."

"Oh, so that was your-"

"I could be shopping, or filing my taxes, or, or bungee-jumping."

"Haley, I- "

"If I knew you would just blow this off and waste my freaking time; spit in my freaking face and laugh about it with your freaking friends, I would of never-"

"Haley!" Nathan stated firmly, smiling and stifling a laugh.

I closed my mouth and lowered my hands, which up until recently I hadn't noticed were flailing around. Maybe that was a little bit much, "Sorry."

Nathan held up his hand, as if to halt my apology, keeping the same smile on his face, "Don't be sorry, you're right. I was wasting your time by being late. My dad ran training late this morning. I can't say it won't happen again, because it might, but I can promise you that I am going to do my best and try my best during our sessions." His voice lowered, shifting from confident to sincere, "I wasn't to be better, Haley."

Way to go Haley James, I think your obnoxious rant got through to him. Well, that probably wasn't exactly a direct product of my rant, slash obnoxious explosion, but I'm going to take the credit anyway. Yay me.

"Alright," Wow, I'm on a roll with my inspiring, thought-provoking dialect. "Thanks." Woo.

"I brought coffee," he smiled charmingly. I raised an eyebrow; he could manage to go out of his way to get coffee but couldn't take the time to show up at the allotted time. Well, sure, because coffee takes priority over most everything, like, I don't know, graduating? What was I thinking?

"I thought it would be best to have a peace offering before walking into the lion's den," Nathan explained, sliding me a cup.

"No, thank you." I politely declined.

His smile faltered, "Are you mad at me?"

His forehead crinkled and his eyes resembled those of a wounded puppy, I smiled. Okay, so he was kind of adorable. So what?

"No, no I'm not angry with you." I reassured him.

He continued to look skeptical, "Is this one of those weird chick things, where you say you're not mad but you're really 'upset'." He made air quotes around 'upset.'

I shrugged my shoulders, with a smile; "I'm just not a coffee person, but thank you for the gesture."

"Huh," he stated, perplexed, before tossing both coffees into the trash can beside the table.

"You didn't have to throw them both away," I stated as I took out my textbooks from my bag.

He took his materials as well, before shrugging his shoulders, "I like coffee," he stated.

"Which, again, brings up the question as to why you threw yours away."

"I don't deserve a reward, I was late."

I snorted a laugh and mumbled under my breath, "Suck-up."

"I heard that."

"You were meant to."

"So you said that was your brother last night," Nathan stated, changing the subject, though it came out more like a question than a direct statement.

I narrowed my eyes, "This is tutoring time, not 'let's-talk-about-Haley' time. That means math, english, science, history, and school, that's it."

"I prefer 'let's-talk-about-Haley' time." He stated with a grin.

I rolled my eyes, "I didn't sign up for 'let's-talk-about-Haley' time."

Nathan placed his hands atop of his closed textbook; "I find it easier to embark upon any excursion if all parties are properly introduced."

Dumb jock, say what? "Alrighty then, assuming you know what all those words mean, I think we can cross english off the schedule."

"See," Nathan stressed, "more free time."

"Are you going to continue to waste my time or are you ready to work?" Question: who asks for help and then avoids doing any work?

"I just want to get to know you."

Answer: Nathan Scott.

I seethed, he was seriously deliberately wasting my time, "I could be doing so many other things right now-"

"I know, I know," he said sarcastically, "you could be sleeping or filing your taxes. Or, you could just make this sweet and painless and answer the question."

"Yes, he is my little brother."

"He looks an awfully lot like you." Nathan stated bluntly.

"That's called genetics," I stated, "now if you're done, we can go over science and I'll explain it all to you."

"He also looks a lot like Lucas."

I huffed, what exactly was he implying? "So do you." I spat back, I knew that comment would come back to bite me in the ass, but I couldn't help myself.

"I look nothing like Lucas." He retorted, obviously defensive.

I sighed; this was going no where. "Look, I know your family situation is messy, okay? But that doesn't give you any right to prod into mine."

"You're right," he stated sincerely, looking a little ashamed, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, let's just get started, okay?" I reasoned, alleviating the situation. I am a great alleviator. Seriously, go me. "Which subject is giving you the most difficulty?"

"History."

Of course it is. "What are you learning in history right now?"

"Nothing, that's why I need your help."

I smiled, "No, I mean what is the class learning?"

He looked at me confused, "You're in the same class as me, you know."

"I want you to tell me."

"Why?"

"To see if you know." I explained.

"I don't." He huffed.

"So you have no idea what Mr. Whitfield is trying to teach?" I prodded.

He shrugged, "History is stupid."

I laughed, "Maybe you'd find it more interesting if you weren't always so busy day dreaming."

He scoffed, "I don't day dream."

I smiled, not convinced, "Mhm, sure you don't."

"I don't!" He defended, "Day dreaming is for sissies, I'm a man."

I laughed, "Right, what was I thinking?"

"I don't day dream," he clarified once more.

"Then what would you call it?"

He thought for a moment, "Visualizing."

"Visualizing?"

"Visualizing." He restated.

I laughed once more, "Day dreaming."

"Shut up."

* * *

As much as I hated to say it, Nathan was kind of right.

I know, I know, the probability of big jock Nathan Scott being legitimately correct was low, very low. But after talking to him for the majority of an hour, I made a brilliant discovery: Nathan Scott wasn't just another dumb, jock-y, arrogant ass. He's actually pretty smart. Like kind of, really smart. He's just really obsessed with basketball. And he also finds history boring.

Sitting here now, in history class, I am disturbingly aware of how incredibly bored I really am. Hence, Nathan Scott's legitimately correctness.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I know what you're thinking, Haley James has her phone in her pocket and on in school? What a bad ass. But really, I keep my phone on and in my pocket at all times, just in case Jamie needed to reach me. Plus, I secretly am a bad ass.

I opened my phone discreetly, as to not be caught by Mr. Whitfield, who was currently lecturing about the woes of another boring court case. Whoah, is Nathan Scott seriously starting to rub off on me?

I used the guy in front of me as a shield as I viewed my cell phone screen. The text was from an unknown number; I opened it anyway; another bad ass move, I know.

'_Day dreaming?_'

I didn't have to turn to the side to know Nathan Scott's eyes were on me, a smirk dancing across his lips.

'_Visualizing._' I texted back.

'_Right :p So, I didn't get a chance to tell you again this morning, but you were really great last night._'

As I read the message I turned my head so he couldn't see me blush, '_It was nothing._'

'_No really, you were amazing._'

Nathan Scott just called me amazing. Whoah. '_All I did was sing a few lousy notes, it's not like I was shooting touchdowns or whatever._'

I heard him laugh, and then try to cover up his laughter with a cough. Smooth Scott, real smooth.

"Is something funny you would like to share with the class, Mr. Scott?" Mr. Whitfield asked, pausing in the middle of his lecture.

I had to stifle my own laugh. Who would of thought I would be texting Nathan freaking Scott in history class; not I, that's for sure.

Mr. Whitfield huffed skeptically before returning to his lecture.

My phone buzzed again, '_Free throws, Hales._'

I smiled, '_Whatever._'

'_Besides, there are nine other guys on the court with me, doing what I do. What you do is different, it's personal._'

'_How so?_'

'_It's only you, in front of a whole crowd, talking about your own life and your own feelings_.'

'_I guess I never thought about it that way, but still, anyone could do that_.'

'_I couldn't._'

'_Sure you could_.'

'_Nope, guess I'm just not as cool as you ;)_'

'_You'll get there eventually_.'

'_Oh, thanks so much_.'

'_No problem :)_'

'_Hey Haley?_'

'_Yeah?_'

'_Do you really bungee-jump at seven in the morning?_ _:p_'

'_Wouldn't you like to know ;)_'


	9. Chapter 9

Hey guys !  
I am so incredibly glad you like the story ! Thanks to everyone who left feedback &favorited or alerted ICSY ! :)  
I know I'm pretty heavy on the sarcasm, but I'm happy most of you find it humorous ! Also, I'd like to clarify that this story isn't going to be exactly like She's All That, it's just going to have various situations from the movies included in it, &most of the time even the situations will have slight twists. I really am sorry if that disappoints you in least, I just really enjoyed the premise of the movie, &I am absolutely in love with Naley, so I though I'd try it out.  
One more thing ! I have no idea what is going on, if it's me or the site, but I cannot upload any documents whatsoever to the document manager on this site. I had to type up all of ICSY chapter nine onto the previous ICSY chapter four document instead of adding the new chapter I had written on microsoft word. Even when I copied &pasted what I had previously written, it didn't work. So if anyone could help me resolve this problem you'll be getting more updates faster, because I couldn't update for two days because of this problem. Your help would be greatly appreciated !

love you,

addie j*

* * *

**I Couldn't Save You**

**Saturday  
January 10th, 2009**

There isn't much I don't know. I know that sounds snobbish and conceited, but it is kind of true.

I know the perfect amount of cheese to grate and add to that perfect amount of noodles to make the most perfect batch of macaroni and cheese any human being has ever had the honor of tasting. I know the exact way in which to hold a crying baby to soothe it into complete silence. I know the square root of pi is 1.772453851… you catch my drift. I know how to make an excessively weary, and equally stubborn, four year old boy go to bed when he wants to stay up and watch 'Phineas and Ferb' on Disney Channel.

I know a lot of things. However, even though my knowledge of many things is vast and possibly never ending, I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what it is with boys and basketball. Hours upon hours spent bouncing an orange ball up and down a cement or wooden court, pushing and shoving other sweaty players to get a ball through a metal hoop and some string? Not exactly what I'd call alluring.

Jamie ran up and down the River Court, following and preceding Lucas, Skills, Junk and Fergie. I sat on the bleachers and watched as my brother took so much joy from a game I could never understand. Which brings up another aspect of life I fail to understand: How a little boy could sustain so much strength and procreate so much happiness after having such a lousy life. I couldn't fathom it. After being stuck with such crappy, emotionally unstable, absent role models, he still had hope, he still had a chance.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Hey Luke," I smiled as he sat down on the bleachers, next to me. He breathed heavily as he tried to cool down from his obviously physically demanding workout.

"He's a firecracker, isn't he?" I asked as we watched Jamie throw the orange, leather ball from the three-point line, and it effortlessly hit the backboard and fall through the net.

Lucas laughed, "Just like his sister."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."

Lucas smiled, "You should, I don't know a sane person how would dare to intentionally mess with Haley James."

I laughed and started to respond before Lucas took a more serious and somber tone and spoke again, "I do, however know a few insane people who would."

Ten bucks to the person who saw that one coming, "Oh." Because I sure as hell didn't.

"Oh? Oh. Oh." Lucas repeated in a calm manner, keeping a low voice, "What the hell are you thinking Haley? What are you doing with Nathan? You know he's an asshole, you know you can't trust him."

I shrugged and moved my gaze from Lucas's disappointed features to my brother's jovial smile, "I'm just tutoring him, Lucas."

Lucas shook his head, "He came to the café, he came to my mom's club, he walked you home, he tried to charm you at your tutoring session."

Wow, do I really talk about Nathan that much? Note to self: leave out best friend's brother whilst recalling the days events to said best friend. Noted.

"What are you doing, Hales?" Lucas asked, whether his tone was sympathetic or disappointed I couldn't tell.

I sighed, "I'm just tutoring him, Luke." I repeated.

Lucas ran his hand through his hair, another mannerism he and his brother shared, along with their equally testy tempters. "It's not just tutoring with him, Haley. You know that."

Another trait they share? Insulting implications.

"No," I seethed, "I don't know Lucas. How about you stop telling me what you think I should know and enlighten me, since you seem to be the expert on Nathan Scott's personality." I spat sarcastically.

"You're right," Lucas held his hands up in surrender, "I don't know him, and therefore, maybe I don't know his intentions, but neither do you. And it doesn't take a genius to take into account his past actions and realize he's playing you, Haley."

I continued to avoid his eyes, "You don't know him like I do."

"Would you listen to yourself?" Lucas exploded, "You don't know him, Haley. He wants something from you, it's painfully obvious to everyone except you."

I shook my head, trying to hold back whatever emotions may result in tears. My best friend had never before doubted my instincts, Lucas had never before doubted me. "You're not being fair."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Lucas asked, generally offended.

I bit my lip, I really have to make myself another mental note to never talk about family issues with the Scott brothers.

And it would probably be in my best interest to make an additional mental note to never group them as 'the Scott brothers.'

Right, mental notes made.

"I just mean maybe," Gosh, how do I phrase this so it doesn't end with his fist in my face? "Maybe you've spent so many years writing him off as just another Dan, maybe we both have, that we never actually gave him a chance." I closed my eyes, and braced my jaw for impact.

Lucas sighed and, lessening the venom in his voice, spoke again, "He's been such a jerk to us, to everyone for all these years. He doesn't deserve your kindness, Hales."

I opened my eyes and faced my best friend, feeling stupid for believing Lucas Scott would actually punch me, "Luke, you had, you have such great role models in your life, with your mom and Keith, to set you straight and lead you in the right direction. All Nathan had growing up to follow as an example was Dan."

Yeah, that's great Haley, remind him of the reason he hates his brother in the first place. Punch me in the jaw? No way. Kick me in the stomach? Very possible.

"All I'm saying," I continued, "is that we shouldn't judge him on his past actions because they may not have been entirely his own fault."

"Why are you suddenly so sensitive to Nathan's ploy?"

"I don't think it's a ploy, Luke." I said sincerely.

Lucas sighed, "You know what I mean, Hales."

I turned my gaze to the River Court once again, watching Jamie smile and take so much felicity from such a simple, seemingly trivial, game. How could a came that consists of dribbling and running and throwing a ball around an enclosed court bring so much solace to boys with such haphazard lives, boys who were given such abominable role models?

When you compared the notes, ranging from role models to interests to intelligence to lives in general, Nathan and Jamie had an eerie amount of similar qualities.

While Nathan was given an over-powering, over-negligent father and an illegitimate brother who he doesn't know how to feel about, Jamie was stuck with a weak-willed mother, an emotional wreck of a father, and oh, let's not forget his lovely, controlling, suffocating, over-bearing older sister. Where Nathan could possibly be top in our class, next to me of course, if he applied himself, Jamie could easily win a Model UN competition, a mathletes championship, and a spelling bee all before his bedtime on any given Tuesday night. Okay, well maybe I'm embellishing a little bit, but you get it.

Both are lost, both are misinterpreted, both share an unwavering love of basketball.

It pains me to think that my little brother will solely be judged on his past, the things he was given, the things he had no say in. If everyone dwelled simply upon what was, dwelled in the past, if everyone judged a person solely on how they were raised, what would that say about society? If I judged Nathan simply based upon the person his father was, what does that say about me?

"Everyone deserves a chance, Lucas." I stated as I watched my brother make a basket and then turn to me in excitement.

"Sometimes, It's all anyone needs."

* * *

"Hey Champ, why don't you run upstairs and feed Chester, and I'll get started on dinner," I said to Jamie as we walked in the front door, fresh from the River Court. "What would you like for dinner?"

Jamie thought about it for a second, placing his index finger against his cute, dimpled chin. He was truly adorable. "Pizza."

I laughed, "Of course. Olives and pepperonis?"

Jamie smiled and nodded persistently, I laughed again. "Okay, go feed Chester and I'll call it in."

Jamie ran up the stairs as fast as his little legs could take him as I walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone, I dialed and ordered, before placing the phone back on it's base.

I knew he was there before I turned around, I knew he was there before he spoke my name, I knew he was there.

"Hello, Haley."

He was my father, I was acutely aware to when he was there, especially because most of the time, he wasn't.

"Hi Dad." I spoke, turning around to face the man who's presence used to provide me with such comfort. His title seemed foreign coming from my lips, 'Dad.' Though it would probably be even more awkward if I went 1890's on him and called him 'father.' Still, 'Dad' seemed more like a term of endearment, and how can one show endearment towards a complete stranger?

"How are you?" He asked, I knew this was just as awkward for him as it was for me.

"Um, I'm fine." I proclaimed, "Jamie and I went to play basketball with Lucas and the guys, and I just ordered a pizza, you want some?"

He shook his head, "No, thank you. I have to go back to the office in a little bit. I just wanted to ask you a question."

I started to busy myself around the kitchen, removing plates and cups and silverware from various cabinets and drawers partially in preparation for dinner, partially to create a less awkward atmosphere, "Shoot."

"How involved are you in Jamie's school work?" He asked casually.

"Um," I paused, where was this going exactly? "Pretty involved, why?"

"Well I got an email from his teacher the other day…"

"Yeah, you probably got a few actually. From what Ms. Lauren, Jamie's teacher, has been telling me; she's concerned about Jamie's work ethic." I explained. If I had normal parents, this explanation would be impressive. It would show I was actively involved in my little brother's learning, an excited advocate for my little brother's future. Most teenagers have no idea what their little sibling's teacher's first and last name are. I'm not saying they're negligent, I'm just saying there are not many seventeen year olds who watch, plan, and analyze their little sibling's every move. Like I said before, if I had normal parents, my knowledge of Jamie's schooling would be impressive.

"Exactly."

Obviously I didn't have normal parents.

"Exactly?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Clarification, please?" I prodded. I hate it when parents expect you to know exactly what they're talking about. Like your shortcomings are so obnoxiously obvious, you should be aware of them before they're previously stated.

"If you knew Jamie was having trouble in school, why didn't you help him out?"

My eyes grew wide and my face turned red, for once in anger and not in embarrassment, "Why didn't I help him out?"

"Well, if you knew Jamie was having difficulty in certain subjects, you could of taken him aside and taught him a few things, I know you have a lot going on in 'Haley-World', I understand that as a senior in high school you're very busy, but your brother needs your attention too." Jimmy explained all matters acutely and reasonably, so reasonably in fact I thought for a second that I was in the wrong. Then I remembered who Jimmy James was, and who Haley James is.

As if on cue, a blond, enthusiastic little boy shot through the kitchen and grabbed onto my father's legs, hugging them tightly. Though the older man seemed surprised, and slightly awkward in the situation, Jamie continued to hold onto him, "Daddy!"

"Hey Jamie," Jimmy said, lightly patting the little boy's head.

"Jamie," I stated sternly, "grab a pencil and paper from the desk drawer, please."

Jamie let go of his father's legs and ran to the desk, as Jimmy looked at me with confused features. I ignored his perplexed look. As Jamie grabbed the pencil and paper, I pointed to the kitchen table and he sat down. My father still stood there, still confounded.

"Twenty-seven times four hundred and sixty-three." I stated, pointing to the paper.

"Haley," my father stated firmly, probably assuming I was trying to make my little brother feel stupid. Oh how well my own father knows me.

Before Jimmy could continue any further with his reprimand Jamie announced, "Twelve thousand, five hundred and one."

Jimmy stood there flabbergasted, I continued, "Jamie, spell triscadecaphobia."

"T-R-I-S-C-A-D-E-C-A-P-H-O-B-I-A," Jamie proclaimed proudly.

"Who was the first European to successfully circumnavigate the World?" I asked, my stare locking directly with my father's. If looks could kill at this moment in time, Jimmy James would be a dead man.

"Ferdinand Magellan," Jamie smiled.

"You want to ask him a question, Dad?" I asked, the animosity dripping from my voice.

Before he could answer, Jamie turned to him with a smile, "Are you going to eat pizza with us tonight, Dad?"

Jimmy stood silently, possibly ashamed, but I could never tell his emotions anymore. If he had emotions anymore.

Still facing my father, I spoke to Jamie, "Not tonight, Jim-Jam. Dad's got a lot going on in 'Jimmy-World', as a working man, he's really busy. He doesn't have time to give us unneeded attention."


	10. Chapter 10

I am completely in love with the idea that you guys love this story,  
thank you all so much for all of your feedback !  
you are all awesome :):):)

Good News !  
Whatever was inhibiting me from uploading last time has been fixed,  
thanks to all of you who sent me messages helping me out !

love you,

addie j*

* * *

**I Couldn't Save You**

**Tuesday**  
**January 13****th****, 2009**

It unnerved me to no end, what my father had said to me. As if it was my fault Jamie couldn't concentrate in school, as if it were my responsibility to make an appearance at Jamie's 'Parent-Teacher Conferences', as if it was me who failed at being a parent.

I did the best I could with what I've been given. I have always made it a point to put Jamie first; I have always made him my number one priority, despite the consequences it may have brought to my own life. I have missed countless classes, tests, tutoring sessions, work, doctor's appointments, parties, social events, SATs, ACTs, college interviews, everything, anything to take care of my little brother.

I don't blame any of my lack of life on my brother, honestly I don't. I couldn't even imagine resenting the only constant in my life for any reason, much less any reason beyond his control. I refuse to be selfish, especially to a boy who never did anything to deserve such a horrid life.

I've sacrificed so much for my little brother, Jimmy James had no right.

Where was he at all those 'Parent-Teacher Conferences'?

Where was he at Jamie's first basketball game?

Where was he when Lydia left and his family needed him the most?

I'll tell you where he was, the same place he always is, absorbed in himself.

I understand he's broken, really I do. His wife left him without so much as a goodbye, much less any reason as to why she felt the need to flee so suddenly. He was never given any clue to where his wife was going, nor was he ever given any divorce papers. He was never given instructions as to how he should feel: angry with Lydia for leaving? Relieved that she left before she caused anymore irreversible damage? Hopeful that she might come back home someday? Worried for his children? Worried for Lydia? He was never given any closure; Jimmy James was never given his happy ending.

But as much as I feel sorry for my father's unrequited life, I never got those things either. I never received a reason or closure. Where was my happy ending? Where was Jamie's? We are all broken, Jimmy was supposed to be holding our family together, not dwelling on the things that tore us apart.

I sat at the dock, watching the water fall and rise in ripples and waves. Gray clouds gathered overhead, blocking the normal North Carolina sunshine. The air was overwhelming with the smell of rain, overtaking my senses. It was peculiar, how many things one observed whilst alone.

The river flowed steadily, like blood through a vein. The water moved and twisted up and down, resembling a human's intake and exhales of breath. It throbbed with the motions of outside influences: fish, boats, fishermen, almost like a heart beat. I placed a hand over my own heart.

How was it possible that a river could be more alive than a person?

"Hey Haley!" Nathan proclaimed, interrupting my disturbingly depressing thoughts. "Look! Only eight minutes late today." Nathan smiled, taking a seat across from me at the same table we sat at just a mere four days ago.

My best friend's words echoed in my head, '_What are you doing, Hales? He's using you._'

"Yeah, congratulations." I mumbled sarcastically, "Now are you going to actually work today or just waste my time like last session?" My tone was icy and disconnected, I could tell by the falter in his smile that I caught him off guard.

"I'm sorry, Haley." He said sincerely, looking a bit ashamed. "I never want you to think I'm just wasting your time. I really am extremely grateful that you agreed to help me."

I held my tongue, I had no idea what my problem was; I just seemed dead set on making an ass of myself in front of Nathan Scott. Lucas was just guessing at his intentions, just like I was. So what if I've only been given crappy, asinine role models in my life? Just because my father doesn't see all the work I put into our relationship, it doesn't mean all men are complete ignoramuses. I placed my fingers on my temples and pressed hard to help suppress my impending headache, "No, no I'm sorry." I sighed heavily, rubbing my face. "I know you're not wasting my time." I looked up at him and gave him a small smile, the biggest one I could muster, "It's just been a rough couple of days."

He smiled sympathetically, "Normally I would make a joke about how we could just blow this off and do something fun, to help you recover from your 'rough couple of days'," he made air quotes around my previous words. "But just for you, I'll refrain."

I put a hand on my heart mockingly, "Thanks so much."

Nathan reached behind his head and stretched a little, "Just doing what I can to help the world, one act of kindness at a time."

I rolled my eyes in good nature, "What a humanitarian. Unfortunately, I highly doubt that holding back your humorless jokes on my behalf counts as a direct effort to help the world."

He shrugged, "I plan on saving a kitten stuck in a tree later."

I laughed, "Well thanks for penciling me in."

He smiled at me. Normally I wouldn't of thought twice about his smile, Nathan Scott smiles a lot. Well, actually, usually he smirks. Not that I spend hours upon hours analyzing Nathan Scott's facial expressions. It's normal for a casual third party observer to happen to notice if a certain blue-eyed jock smile-smirks. It is normal. Really, it is.

Like I was saying, normally I wouldn't of thought twice about Nathan Scott's smile, but this… this smile was different. Nathan had smiled around me many a time, Nathan had smiled at my antics, Nathan had smirked at my blushes. But this time, this time Nathan Scott was smiling _**at me**_.

I quickly looked away, shielding yet another blush, "Okay, so last class Mr. Whitfield was talking about the segregation and integration of African Americans into a predominately white society."

"I think that whole segregation thing is a load of bull," Nathan stated bluntly, "What gives one group of people the right to exclude others and think that they, themselves are superior?"

I shrugged, "You think that now, because you're so accustomed to having every race integrated into your life. It is hard to understand that way of thinking, but back then it was the hierarchy, it was what they were raised to believe."

He shook his head, "But why?"

I bit my lip, Nathan Scott wanted to learn. I thought I'd never see the day. Now it was up to me to explain everything in a way to keep him interested; Haley James, the most boring person in the world. Awesome.

"Okay," I stated, placing my hands on the table, "think of the hierarchy now."

Nathan looked confused, "You mean like the president and government and stuff?"

"Think simpler, like high school."

He looked past my head, off into the distance, contemplating my proposal.

I took a piece of paper from my notebook and drew a triangle, "Look," I said pointing to the top of the triangle with my pen. "At the top of the high school hierarchy there are the jocks and the cheerleaders."

Nathan watched as I drew little stick figures that vaguely resembled a basketball player and a cheerleader in the top section of the pyramid. "And then we have the skaters, the surfers, and the stoners, and then the JV jocks and the wannabes, and then the artsy kids like the choir, orchestra, art, theatre, and band affiliates." I labeled all of these sections and drew little stick figures in each as I explained them aloud. "And then, at the very, very bottom, we have the outcasts and the socially exiled." The more I explained the levels of social hierarchy the more I couldn't understand what I was doing sitting here, sitting here with Nathan Scott.

The sky opened up as tiny drops of water sprinkled from the clouds, "No one chose their position on the pyramid. No one was told not to integrate with the other sections of the hierarchy, but somehow everyone understands the rules." I explained while putting my stuff back into my bag, I could tell a storm was rolling in in more ways than one.

"Nobody told me how to be socially awkward, I'm guessing no on told you how to be arrogantly superior, but somehow I am and clearly, you are." My tone grew in venom as the rain fell harder. The social hierarchy, this relationship between Nathan and I, it didn't make sense.

Jimmy's malappreciation, Lucas's distrust, my own knowledge, it all told me one thing: men, people in general…suck.

"I mean when was the last time you talked to someone at the bottom of the high school pyramid, just to talk and not to get something out of it?"

Nathan looked taken aback, I knew he was going to answer the question, so I answered it for him.

"Maybe me? But oh, wait. You needed something from me, didn't you?"

"Haley, I—"

"Don't, okay?" My voice softened, "We'll have to finish this later." I ran my hand through my already wet hair. I watched him as he sat there, watching me. I wanted to apologize, but he was probably already tired of all of my emotional whiplashes.

So I sighed one last time, and then I walked away.

* * *

History was awkward.

I was caught in-between desperately wanting to apologize to Nathan and the annoying, nagging feeling of needing someone to blame my anger on. I opened my mouth and turned to Nathan at least six times in that hour and a half; only to find him, every single time, staring at me. So the end result was just him staring at me and me, mouth still widely agape, staring back at him.

Thus, history was awkward.

When that bell rang, I shot straight out of my chair and sprinted out the door. (Edward Cullen style, fo realz.) What I really needed right now was fresh air. Unfortunately not a single soul could walk out of the school doors without becoming immediately soaked through.

I thought that maybe lunch could bring some solace, some time to thing. Unfortunately, the quad was flooded, so all grades were forced inside for lunch and I so graciously bestowed with even more suffocation.

Lucas sat on my right as we ate our lunches silently in the otherwise boisterous cafeteria. I wracked my brain for something to talk about; something that didn't involve Jimmy or Jamie or Nathan. Disturbingly, nothing else came to mind.

"So how about them Bears?" I asked lamely, picking at my turkey sandwich.

Lucas turned to me, a slight smile playing on his lips, "Bears?"

I put down my sandwich and turned to my best friend, "Yes, Bears."

Lucas laughed, "Haley, do you even know who the Bears are?"

"Of course," I lied.

"Yeah, what sport do they play?" Lucas asked skeptical.

"Um… football?"

"For what host city?"

I bit my lip, "Uh… Canada?"

"Canada?" Lucas asked with a laugh.

I smiled up at him, "You look really pretty today."

He shrugged accepting my attempt to change the subject, "I know it," he fluffed his hair a bit, "it's all in the hair."

I rolled my eyes, still smiling. "Egotistical, much?"

Lucas shook his head, "Just good self-esteem."

We smiled at each other, in that way only best friends can get away with. Lucas put his arm around me in a friendly hug, "I'm sorry I'm an ass, Hales."

I leaned into his embrace, "I'm sorry you're an ass too."

"You were right, as always. Just because I don't like the guy, doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a chance."

"Good."

Lucas pulled away, but kept his arm around my shoulder, "Are we still best friends?"

I pulled away further, forcing his arms to drop, "Actually…"

"Haley." Lucas said sternly.

"It's just that I've had a lot of time to think since our metaphorical breakup, and I been scopeing out your competition."

"Hales."

"There's just a lot of potential out there, and let's face it: I'm a precious commodity."

"Haley James."

I smiled, "Buy me a pudding cup and I'll be your best friend."

Lucas rolled his eyes and proceeded to get up while mumbling, "The things I do for you."

I happily turned back to my turkey sandwich, glad to have everything sorted out with my best friend. I wouldn't be able to handle the Jimmy situation without his unwavering support.

One Scott brother down, one to go.

"May I sit here?"

Speak of the devil. Is it me or does this seem to be happening a lot lately?

"What are you doing?" I asked rudely before I could catch myself. Yeah Haley, because he'll surely be won over with your apology when you keep treating him like crap.

I cringed before correcting myself, "I mean… What are you doing?" I asked in a much more sweet and enthusiastic manner; it was actually kind of sick it was so sweet.

Nathan smirked at my self-correction, "Asking you if I can sit here."

"Yes," I stressed the 's', "but besides that what are you doing?"

Nathan smiled triumphantly before stating proudly, "I am playing Rosa Parks to Tree Hill High."

I choked on my turkey sandwich, "Ros-" I coughed, "Rosa Parks?"

"Yes, Rosa Parks." He clarified. "Mr. Whitfield said today it took just one of her heroic acts to help inflict a revolution."

I cocked an eyebrow, "Yes, well Rosa Parks went to jail."

Nathan shrugged, "I've been to detention."

I bit my lip and shook my head, "Not quite the same thing."

"Are you going to let Rosa Parks sit down or not?" Nathan asked, holding out his tray.

"Rosa Parks was also the minority, she was from the bottom of the pyramid trying to help her section of hierarchy move up. Did you ever think it might have the opposite effect on a member of the majority who attempts to do the same thing?" I asked, he was risking his whole reputation because I was too proud to apologize for my outbursts.

"Don't care."

"You don't care?"

He nodded.

I smiled, "So when you don't care, does that mean Rosa Parks doesn't care."

He huffed in good nature, it was fun to tease Nathan Scott. "Listen Mr. Bus Driver—"

I raised an eyebrow, "Mr. Bus Driver?"

"Are you going to let me sit down or not."

I shrugged and turned back to my sandwich, "Sure thing Rosa."

Nathan smiled and set down his tray. In that one action, Nathan Scott possibly destroyed his mighty pedigree of popularity. High school was forever changed. But, as I looked up from my sandwich and into his eyes that were looking directly into my own, I could tell he really didn't care.

"Rosa Parks was also a woman." I continued, "Though you are looking very feminine today, Rosa. I don't quite think you can pull of a dress like she can."

I could feel Lucas's presence sit down beside me. He passed me my pudding cup and looked at Nathan before asking, "You wear dresses?"


End file.
